


didn't realize 'till just in time

by werealldreaming



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Book 04: Rhythm of War Spoilers, Dawnshard Spoilers, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Non-Linear Narrative, Trans Female Character, character study i guess?, explorations of identity, gender euphoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 17:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30025419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werealldreaming/pseuds/werealldreaming
Summary: He writes the masculine form.Then the feminine.And seeing that, staring down at women’s script forI’m glad to hear from you, isrightin a way that Kaladin cannot fully describe.An exploration of identity, Identity, and the intersections of the two.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 49





	didn't realize 'till just in time

**Author's Note:**

> heyy guess who's still writing cosmere fic! this is pure self-indulgence lol, but i hope you enjoy!
> 
> do note that there are (character-focused, not plot-focused) spoilers for both dawnshard and rhythm of war spoilers in this, plus a blink-and-you-miss-it plot spoiler for rhythm of war, for those who haven't had a chance to read those and care about spoilers.
> 
> also, kaladin does misgender herself for...most of this. there's also some references to gender dysphoria, and discussion of a character getting hurt from unsafe binding.

iv.

He stops having to shave, after a while.

It takes him almost three weeks to realize it, that he hasn’t had to pick up his razor and yet his face remains smooth, in a way it hasn’t been since he was fifteen years old. There’s not even any stubble, no hint of even a shadow as his facial hair grows in.

Kaladin…can’t say he minds. He’s always hated shaving, almost as much as he’s hated actually having facial hair, and the freedom from the constant task is nice.

i.

Kaladin’s not really sure how the topic came up. Bridge Four is eating dinner in the mess hall, laughing together, and Kaladin’s only half-paying attention to the conversation until he tunes in to hear Lopen saying, “… And I told him, of course he should go around shirtless! It's not like he has breasts now, eh?”

Kaladin frowns, confused. “Did…he have breasts before?”

“I think so,” Lopen says. “Ral-na told me his body was like a woman’s, and then Stormlight changed it.”

“Ral-na—do you mean the Reshi King?”

Lopen nods, but doesn’t elaborate, and Kaladin lets out a sigh. He has no idea how Lopen got on such good terms with the king of the Reshi Isles, and if he’s honest, that’s a pile of cremlings he doesn’t even want to think about.

“And Stormlight just…changed his body?”

“Yeah!”

“Huh,” Kaladin says. “I didn’t even know that could happen.”

v.

He almost walks directly into Lift on his way back from the surgeons’ supply rooms, stumbles and almost drops what he’s holding, though thankfully he’s only carrying a bunch of bandages and not any medications whose bottles might have broken.

“Sorry,” he says, grimacing down at the piles of white cloth. They’ll have to be boiled again before they can be used.

Lift doesn’t acknowledge him, but her spren appears. “Oh, good,” he says, vines curling. “I was looking for you.”

“You were?”

“Yes,” the spren says. “My mistress is hurt and refuses to see anyone about it.”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Lift says, turning on him. “You’re just being stupid.”

“I am _not_ ,” the spren huffs, and Lift scowls.

Kaladin looks between the two, then asks, “Doesn’t your Stormlight heal you?” He knows Lift has an…unconventional…way of producing Stormlight, but as far as he’s aware, that doesn’t change what she’s able to do with it.

“It doesn’t work,” Lift says. “It’s not awesome enough.”

“Huh.” Kaladin shifts the weight of the bandages in his arms and motions with his head for them to keep walking with him. “So, what exactly is bothering you?”

Lift’s spren answers for her. “She has been wrapping her chest in bandages,” he says. “It’s causing her pain that won’t heal.”

“How long is she wearing them?”

“The entire day?”

Kaladin nods. “It’s not a good idea to wrap your chest for so long, especially with bandages,” he says. “It can cause rib damage if they’re too tight. I don’t know why that’s not getting healed by Stormlight, but I’d recommend not wearing anything constricting your ribs for a while.”

Lift scowls and crosses her arms. “That’s stupid. I hate them, and the bandages make them go away.”

The _them_ , Kaladin assumes, is her breasts. Lift is at the age that they’d start developing, after all. “You hate them?”

“Yes,” Lift says. “They’re starving stupid. I don’t want them.”

It’s an odd sentiment. Kaladin had always just assumed that women liked their bodies, liked their breasts. At least, he can’t see a downside to having such anatomy, besides the monthly cycles he’d learned about.

“I’m sorry,” he says, unsure what else to say. “I don’t know what I can do about that. But please try not to cause yourself rib damage, okay?”

Lift nods reluctantly, and her spren pipes up, “I’ll hold you to that, Mistress.”

iii.

He steps up to the food stand, and the stall owner looks up at him.

“What can I get you, ma’am?”

“Uh—can I have two of the spicy skewers?” he asks.

The man behind the counter covers his mouth. “Oh, sir, I’m so sorry,” he says. “I just assumed from the hair—but yes, of course, sir.”

“It’s okay,” Kaladin says, waving a hand. He had barely even noticed the slip, hadn’t been paying attention.

“Just a moment, sir.” There’s a slight emphasis on the way the man says _sir_ that Kaladin, now aware of the honorific, wishes weren’t there. He didn’t mind the slip, and it’s odd to notice how bothered the other man is by it.

The stall owner disappears for a moment, then reappears and holds out two skewers, wrapped in a napkin. “Here you are.”

Kaladin digs in his belt for a few diamond chips, and hands them over in exchange. “Thank you, have a good day,” he says, and the man nods.

“You too.”

vi.

He stares down at the carefully formed letters, the neat worksheet that Shallan had sent him home with. It’s still somewhat intimidating to Kaladin, that he’s learning to read women’s script. Overwhelming.

The worksheet is just simple sentences to let him practice forming letters, the kind he would likely have to write during a spanreed conversation at some point or another. _This is Kaladin Stormblessed_ is one, as is _I’m glad to hear from you_ and a few others _._

The second sentence is written twice. Shallan has arrows pointing to the _I’m_ in each, noting the diacritic mark denoting a masculine speaker.

Kaladin studies the two versions, unsure _what_ exactly is bothering him about them but knowing there’s something odd about it. They’re both written neatly in black ink, without any fancy marks or flourishes that would go on something more elaborate. There’s almost no difference between the two, in truth, besides the gender of the speaker.

He writes the masculine form.

Then the feminine.

And seeing that, staring down at women’s script for _I’m glad to hear from you_ , is _right_ in a way that Kaladin cannot fully describe.

All she knows is that this referral in the feminine form is something she wants more of.

ii.

Kaladin doesn’t stop thinking about the story.

He’s not really sure why it’s bothering him so much—it’s not as if he’s even met the Reshi King, or has any real reason to think so much about the man. Other than being Radiant, they don’t even have anything in common.

Syl flies up to his face and pokes him on the nose. He can’t really feel it, but he jerks back anyway. “You’re thinking too much.”

“I’m not,” Kaladin says, crossing his arms.

“You are,” Syl says, mimicking him. “You can’t pretend with me.”

Kaladin rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine. What do you want me to do about it?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing important,” Kaladin says, and then, because he knows Syl will keep bothering him if he doesn’t elaborate, “Just what Lopen mentioned about the Reshi King. It’s weird, that Stormlight can’t heal older wounds, but it could change his body so much.”

Syl hums and tilts her head, considering. “I would imagine that’s just how he feels most comfortable. That’s how it works in Shadesmar, you know.”

Kaladin nods. “You do it all the time.”

“Yeah!” Syl twirls. She’s wearing a more girly dress today, one whose skirt flows out in a circle as she spins. “It’s fun.”

“But you don’t change your gender.”

Syl shrugs. “I don’t feel the need to.” She wrinkles her nose. “You all are so _weird_ about it, though. I don’t understand it.”

“Gender?”

“Uh-huh. You’ve got all these _rules_ for it. Only men can fight and only women can read, and all that.”

Kaladin snorts, thinking of Lyn and Dalinar. “Well, the Radiants aren’t exactly sticking to those rules.”

“Exactly!” Syl says.

vii.

She doesn’t know how long she can hide it. Her body has changed, and though it’s subtle, it wouldn’t be hard for an observant individual to notice the softening of her skin and facial features, the slight curve to her hips. She doesn’t know if her chest will change—isn’t even sure if she wants it to. But she thinks that’s also a possibility.

And she doesn’t want to hide, if she’s honest. Especially now that she’s not leading Bridge Four, now that she doesn’t have to put on the same front of strength that she’d had to before.

Kaladin pulls her hair into a simple three-strand braid, puts on a pair of gloves, and leaves her quarters.

**Author's Note:**

> i'd love to hear about what you think in the comments! and here's a reminder to release the tension in your shoulders <3
> 
> you can come find me on tumblr at [ternaryflower53](https://ternaryflower53.tumblr.com)


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